Vanilla Twilight
by LittleMissLoony
Summary: One summer's day, before her sixth year at Hogwarts, Hermione plans to meet up with Ron in Diagon Alley. But in this world, since when did things go according to plan? Dramione! Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**This is based upon my love for Owl City (and the brilliant song of which I have titled this) and Harry Potter of course, so I'd love any reviews, thanks! There'll be a couple of chapters, about five, so I'll update as soon as I can!**

That's what I had promised Ron. I told him I'd be in Diagon Alley, the day before we were supposed to head off to the Burrow again, like he said. Harry's coming in two days, supposedly, and I was going to get most of my books today. Why isn't anything going to plan?

Now I'm standing here, waiting. He always messing things up like this- didn't he get my owl? It's a simple predicement, if he forgot today of all days my parents had dropped me off in the Leaky Cauldron, and left me to fend for myself, he would realise soon enough. It's not like I told mum and dad that Ron was nowhere to be seen.

"He's useless."

I'm talking to myself. Why am I talking to myself? It's soliliquous of course, that when people talk to themselves they are speaking the truth. Ha, so Ron really is hopeless. I look up at the dusty old clock on the wall of the Leaky Cauldron, hanging above the bar. Ten minutes to two... maybe I'm being harsh, he's only running behind a little. I bet he's still asleep, dozy sod. I should get going, Tom, the barman, looks peeved off. Ah well.

I head to Diagon Alley, using the wall in the back of the pub. I smile to myself, knowing if Ron was here he wouldn't have a clue which bricks to tap. They slide apart simply, and I see that the street's quite busy today. Well it would be, in summer, everything's on offer now. Quidditch shop, darn, it's full. No way will I be able to buy Harry anything at the moment. I look down at my shoes, surprisingly unsuitable walking down a cobbled road, the heels of my suede boots clipping annoyingly against the stonework.

It's not a lucky day though, is it? Ron's not here. I can't get Harry's present. Oh, great. I gaze up to the grey clouds, hoping they have a silver lining, but yes, it's going to rain. In the middle of summer... how odd.

I Summon my coat from my bag, a velvety violet shade, that I wrap around me before rushing into Florian's Ice Cream Parlour, just across the street. Good thinking on my behalf, I'm pretty hungry...

Ice cream. One of the world's greatest inventions, in my book. And Florain must be the best man ever to make these... I look up at the board of different flavours, and realise there's more flavours this time... Acid Pops... eurgh, dangerous. Simple me, I choose vanilla, my favourite.

"Hey, could I get..."

I notice someone at the other end of the counter and trail off. If there was anyone with white blond hair and such an annoying smirk across his face, I would immediately know it was the almighty Draco Malfoy. Arrogant git. He's sitting alone, though he's not eating anything. Why aren't Crabbe and Goyle around? Even more odd, he always has his "henchmen" around to do his dirty work. He's looking at me, gosh, I bet he's going to come over and torment me any time now.

"Yes, dear?" Mr Florian is cleaning some sundae glasses behind the counter, smiling.

"Oh, sorry, vanilla, please. Two scoops."

I cross my arms, leaning against the glass ledge overlooking the ice creams, pretending to examine the drinks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see he's still there... What if Ron knew I'd met him today? Silly me, I haven't actually _met _him yet. He's just sitting on the barstool. Hmm, doesn't he know it's me? Well, my hair is surprisingly straight today.

"Eating outside? Here's your ice cream."

Good idea. Malfoy doesn't look in such a great mood, or at least not as content as he would be beating up some second-year student. Maybe it's his father. Of course it is... he must be upset over the news at the Mnistry. Merlin, what am I thinking? Am I pitying Malfoy, the greatest Pureblood supremacist of all time?

"Thanks."

I make my way over to a small table in the sun, just outside the parlour, noticing that most of the clouds have headed west, away from here. Wow, lucky me. I stretch, and smile, waiting for Ron still... another ten minutes, he is so in for it when I see him. Searing pain shoots through my ankle and I swear, which is extremely unlike me. I turn, to see Draco has kicked me before walking off. What the hell was that all about? Just out of anger, I grab my wand and shoot it in his direction, tying the laces of his shoes so he fell.

I smile, oh, how sadistic of me. I should help, no, he kicked me first, for a completely unprovoked reason. He turns, sitting on the ground as if he can't believe what I've just done. Or at least as if he knows I'll regret it, which I doubt.

"You should really treat others better, Mudblood, or you'll get a bad reputation."

He says this with a slight bitter tone as he picks himself off of the ground and walks over. I ignore his remark about my blood lineage.

"That makes two of us then." I reply, still smiling sweetly, dipping my spoon into the vanilla swirls of my sundae.

"Shut up and mind your own business." He stands by the table, looking down, blocking my sunlight.

"I was until you so rudely interrupted me. It's not as if anyone cares anymore what you think, you know. It was all over the papers about your stupid-"

He looks away, not listening to my rant, unsurprisingly. There's something on his mind. Should I ask?

"What's your problem then?"

"Family... why the hell would you care?"

"I don't. You just seem down. And no-one else will ever listen to you in this state."

_I can't believe I just said that. How did I say that? And why exactly would I tell Granger about my problems? I must be ill, heatstroke or something. But she might understand..._

"I hate my father, that's what."

"Hate's a strong word, you know." I say, trying not to look shocked.

"Well, it's true. I'm glad he's in Azkaban."

"Well, if that's all..."

"No, it's not." He interrupts, sitting down at the table, which really does shock me. "I've had it with everything. The Death Eaters, school, just- I don't have a clue why I'm telling you this, to be honest."

I seem to smile sympathetically... or at least that is what my mouth is doing. He has been through a lot, but I never thought he really had anything to do with Death Eaters. I just thought he was an arrogant-minded dolt.

_She's smiling. Does she find this funny? Good. What the bloody hell am I actually doing?! If any Slytherins were here I'd be in for it, not that I care anymore... maybe I should keep talking._

"I'm sorry. I never thought-" I find myself babbling with compassion, as if I'm not even saying this all. How can I say sorry to him? "Look, I didn't mean for any of this to happen..."

"I know. It was Potter." He says bitterly, angrily looking down at his hands, avoiding my eye. "Even if he is your friend, he's a bastard."

"You might think that, and I might even think that occasionally, but you don't have to go into a huge rivalry against him, I mean, _you're_ not a Death Eater, are you? I'd hate it if you were just to go against him, please. You really can't let Voldemort win this, Harry knows."

"What? So it's true? He really is the chosen one?" He says the last words in an equally sour voice, yet intrigued. He raises his eyebrows. Wow, he has the most amazingly silver eyes... What am I thinking?! I nod, trying not to blush. "No... I'm not a Death Eater..." Trailing off, he sits back in his chair, looking at me intently.

"The thing is, Ron said he'd be here by now... that's why I've been waiting here."

I check my watch, but find it pointless now, as I doubt he'll ever get here. Draco is about to stand up, as if not wanting to see Ron at any given moment. Well, of course he wouldn't. It's Ronald Weasley, for crying out loud. I pause, then get up and walk after him, putting a hand on his arm. I think he's smiling, or smirking, either way.

"You don't have to go, you know. Ron won't get here for ages, and I don't care anymore."

He turns his blond head back, and smiles genuinely. What am I playing at? Ron would have a hissy fit!

I sit back down, and offer him some of my icecream, which I don't think I want to eat anymore. I've lost my appetite. Strange...

He takes a spoon from the stand on the table and helps himself to a lump, and smiles mischieviously as he eats, like the cat who just got the cream, or ice cream at least. About to take another spoonful, he obliterates another scoop, but instead of eating it himself, he moves it towards my lips, slightly parted, and I oblige. I always wondered why vanilla was my favourite flavour.


	2. Chapter 2

I sit there, just dazed. What was that for? Didn't I already say I wasn't hungry?

"You sure you're not hungry?" Draco says, swirling the last remains at the bottom of the glass with the thinner end of the spoon.

"How did you-" I frown, wondering if it was just a coincidence we were thinking the same thing. Does he know Legilimency? Was that why he was smirking? "Yes, I _am_ sure I'm not hungry, in fact, since _you've _eaten most of _my_ ice-cream, why don't you pay?"

"Happy to."

He knocks his chair aside and smiles casually again before heading through the door again. True, I didn't want any more ice-cream, but there was something far more tempting in my midsts that I know shouldn't even come into contemplation at all.

I sigh, and tug at the short sleeve of my blouse. It's golden satin, perfect for this hot weather, which is cool against my lightly tanned skin. I wouldn't consider myself in Draco's league at all; he only likes Purebloods. I'm being so prejudiced. Ha, we both are. The bell trills as Draco opens the door, and he taps my shoulder so I turn my head towards him. He's doing up one of his shoes, which was primarily my fault, and I laugh light-heartedly. I stand up, wondering why I'm waiting for him.

"Sorry about that. But you started it."

"What an immature comment. I'd have thought you'd have more brains in that head of yours," He retorts sarcastically, pulling a face. "Are you planning to go anywhere else today? I need to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"Small world, me too."

I hope he doesn't think I'm lying, because I already wanted to go earlier, but it was packed. I nod and pick up my jacket. I'm just about to put it over my shoulders before Draco pulls the collar from me and drapes it over me instead. That's so sweet... why is he being sweet?!

"Thank you." I smile secretly, knowing I'm about to blush again, my cheeks feeling suddenly hot.

"Let's get going, the shop should've cleared out by now."

As he had said, once we enter the shop there were still many customers inside, but fewer than before. I head towards the shelves full of state-of-the-art broomstick kits, and browse them for something suitable for Harry's Firebolt. If there was one thing that would keep Harry happy was his joy of flying. I glance out of the window for a few seconds, and swear that I see someone there... That's the problem with the wizarding world at the moment; I'm never sure how many Death Eaters are out there anymore...

I meet up with Draco again at the counter, where my cheeks suddenly blush hotly, knowing it's embarrassing to have to get out my Galleons in front of him. He's stinking rich and I'm less so, but he doesn't seem to mind. I smile to myself: he's changed. Draco is dealing with a large bag of Quidditch equipment, consisting of polish, tweezers and other quality goods. I feel quite jealous, considering Draco has only got a Nimbus 2001, but is an extremely skilled Seeker himself. Of course, I've never had a great interest in Quidditch.

"You know, you really are quite good at flying. Better than me by a long shot, anyway."

I find it even more stupid to be complimenting him further, but I can't help it and blurt it out as we make our way towards the door again. He smiles and laughs softly, before his hand brushes past mine for an instant. I take it as the fact he has a large bag and box to carry. We get outside before I offer to help him.

"Do you want me to-?"

We stop in the centre of the lane, bare inches away from each other, and I hold my hand out to take the box from him, to which he accepts. I reach for the box, until a small knocking sound issues from it; I flinch in surprise.

"What is in that?" I ask curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"A Snitch, obviously." Draco rolled his eyes, and opened the box slightly, grabbing at the winged ball before it tried to speed away. "Personally-made actually."

Damn it, he's being cocky again. Of course it would be made specifically for him. Yes, there's the _DM_, his initials. Instead of the typical golden colour also, the ball was silver, and suddenly reminded her of the flying keys I had seen in first year.

"Wow, amazing, _honestly_." I act as indifferent as possible, but he can tell I'm actually quite curious about it. "_Pretentious twat."_

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, apart from the fact that you are one, I've noticed."

"Thanks for noticing then." He takes this in his stride, not the least be argumentative, which I find incredibly frustrating. It's as if he wants me to get annoyed... that's probably true, actually. The box vanishes, and I realise he's obviously sent it off back to Malfoy Manor... I mean seriously? Who would be so highbrow as to name a house after their name? Well, the Malfoys, that's who. He's gazing off into the distance, and I can swear he is just posing for the effect it is having on me... Darn it, he does have amazing eyes...

_She doesn't have a clue, does she? I wish I didn't have to keep lies from her... why am I thinking this? My heart is racing, and Hermione's just about to hold my hand, but I turn. I really cannot be followed right now, there's too much at stake... I need to get Hermione out of here._

He's tense. What's wrong? My instinct is getting the better of me; I think he doesn't want to be seen with me... well, if that's the way he's going to behave it's his own fault. He withdraws and continues to avoid my eye, constantly looking over his shoulder, worried.

"Dra... Malfoy? Are you alright? What-"

"Quick, follow me."

He grabs my arm and tugs me down an alleyway, dark and dingy without the summer sun here. I fight against his grasp, trying to pull away, but he doesn't seem to be noticing anything else except for the direction we were heading in. As I attempt slow him down, at the speedy pace he is already running at, I feel his hand shaking. He pulls me down against the cobbled stones beneath us and waits. I realise how close we are... no, I really don't want to think about that right now. His hand is warm agaisnt my back and I can still smell the vanilla in the air, and I then find Draco's head inclining towards mine. I push him back and stand up, thinking he's got the wrong idea and flee back along the old stone walls, wondering which way would result in returning to Diagon Alley.

"Draco? Where are we?" My voice is nervous and I'm breathing slowly.

"Granger, get back down!"

In that moment, a pale hand reached out across my mouth, causing the last gasps of air to be caught in my throat. My head hits the ground with a great force, and pain reverbrates through my body. I don't see save for the darkening sky above, until my eyes shut into unconciousness.


	3. AN: Continue with Story

**Vanilla Twilight- A Dramione.**

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

I thought I should just add that I won't be returning to this story until I have finished one of my others, which should be finished sometime in the summer so keep an eye out, but for now I will be busy. If you think I should continue later on or just scrap this fanfiction for the time being, can you please review so I know how many people want to see this continued?

All reviews are welcome!

Thank you ;)

xxxGood Luckxxx

Little Miss Loony xx


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